The Green and White
by C. Y. Hsu
Summary: The story of one girl's experience as a part of the best high school band that ever graced New York's football fields.


**Author's Notes:** Wow. Let me first say that I find it absolutely hysterical that there is marching band fanfiction on this planet. I've been writing fanfiction for a really long time, and I never imagined that there would be something like this around. So I decided to write a story centered on my freshmen year as a member of one of the best marching bands that has ever graced the football fields in my home state. I'm changing the location, the names, and most of the other things that would anger some people if they were to read them, but the story will be the same. This fic will be filled with triumph, defeat, angst, sex, love, and intrigue but it's pure reality and I hope you all enjoy it. Please leave some feedback or e-mail me, because I'd love to talk. Thanks!

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**The Green and White**

_Chapter One: Traditions To Uphold_

There were two high schools in my hometown. The one that I was in district for was not famous for great athletics or great academics. The other high school was known as the not-quite-so-good counterpart. Some of the sports teams were a little better, but generally the students came from poorer families and had less of a future than those from the other school. Tradition in the town was centered on the amazing marching band that graced the main high school. At Thanksgiving, the families came out to see the band perform at the rare half-time show. No one cared about the football team. The music program at Windsor High School was the town's pride and joy.

I had been playing the flute since sixth grade. Ever since I picked up my instrument at my first lesson, I had known that I was somehow continuing this tradition of excellence. As I played my way through my three years of middle school, I heard more and more about the high school's band program. I still wasn't exactly sure what it was about. All I knew is that they were champions, they worked hard, and they travelled around the country and sometimes even to foreign places to perform.

My middle school band experience was the highlight of my pre-marching band years. We were the best band that our band director had ever seen. We went to one musical competition (no marching involved) and won ever single award for our jazz and concert band. We even beat out high schools. I, along with my two best guy friends, was selected to accept the trophies at the awards ceremony. I had been an honors flute player since 7th grade, and was considered to be the best reader in the band. It was automatically assumed that I would go on to do band in high school. I was unsure about it, but when subject selection came around, there was no way my middle school director was letting me get away with skipping out on band.

The summer had been an interesting one, with a lot of firsts for me. I had my first kiss, my first dance with a boy that I actually liked, my first real taste of independence. The night before band camp, which would take up the last two weeks of my summer, I had somewhat of a mental breakdown. I didn't want to give up my social life. Anyone I had ever talked to told me that band was life consuming. I didn't want to surrender my chance to be popular like I was in sixth grade. I still harbored insecurities about my friends and I didn't want to give up my chance to have the high school experience you see in movies, with lots of sex, drugs, and alcohol. I was truly upset that night before, and my mom came to me. "Amy," she said, "This choice is up to you. You do not have to do band if you do not want. But I do believe you will regret not following through with this later in your life. You are talented and this band will help you to shine. All of your close friends will be joining you, and you will make new friends."

She was right. At the end of sixth grade, I had stopped hanging out with the preppy, popular girls. I had started my own sort of clique with other girls who had defected from the other group. We were all smart and good in band, with our own guy counterparts who were also band geeks. We were close and did almost everything together, including high school band. Two of my best friends, Kay and Ashley, had older siblings who did band. They were excited about joining band. The rest of us, especially my closest friend (Marissa), all had doubts. We were going to go through with it though, because there was always the opportunity to quit.

So that night, I dried off my tears of anger and went to bed. Band camp started at 9 in the morning, but I wanted to be there early. It was a known fact throughout the town that the band director, Mr. Lewis, hated people to be late. The last thing I wanted was to be singled out and yelled at. I was so nervous about making a good impression that I would have done anything Mr. Lewis required. Right before I went to bed, I checked my music to make sure it was laminated and attached to a key chain, as required. I looked at my flute and readied myself to begin playing again the next day. I had my outfit (shorts, sneakers, and a big t-shirt) lying on my floor beside an empty water bottle and sunscreen. All the materials I needed were ready.

It was me who was not prepared.


End file.
